Each dusk the princess rubs Estee Lauder Night Repair serum all over her ex-prince while he lies on black velvet, inside a glass coffin. She adds his visitors to her collection.
Her whole life had been leading up to this day, this moment, at the front of the church. With all eyes on her, she looked perfect in her dress, her shoes and her coffin.
The dead man stared at the coffin lid.
I’ll take it, he said.
I leaned over the coffin, my hot tears falling on her cold face, and told her that I loved her.
‘Then kiss me,’ she said.
This post submitted by Mark McAuliffe